In this silence I love
by Namicchi
Summary: It's not surprising that, when he realizes his feelings, Sawamura is the impatient one.


**Beta:** Ola aka the one responsible for making me fall into baseball hell ( formless-shadow on tumblr)  
**Warnings:** OOC maybe?  
**A/N:** I'm a sucker for rare ships, I really am. Big thank you to my personal miracle, Ola, for making this fic readable.  
I recommend to listening to _Enjoy the silence_ by Depeche Mode. It isn't related to this fic but it's a good song (long story short: I was looking for a sentence with 'silence' to use it as a title and stumbled upon that song).

**In this silence I love**

Despite being on the same team and playing shogi together almost every evening (that is, when the senpai crash at Miyuki's room, dragging their kouhai with them and then shamelessly teasing them), Sawamura and Yuuki don't talk much. It's not so bad when there are other people around them; Sawamura isn't used to being quiet, oh no, he needs to talk, to connect with other people. But when they're alone... Then it's a completely different story. Something crawls under Sawamura's skin when the captain's eyes are on him, watching him with the same intensity as he observes pitchers of opposite teams. Good gods, how those players can still throw a ball instead of running away?! Not like Sawamura would run away from an intimidating batter but still; he needs to almost force himself to not fidget under Yuuki's heavy gaze.

He is a bit intimidated by the captain. In the eyes of his kouhais – Sawamura's too – Yuuki-senpai is the epitome of being cool: he is the best batter in their team who can stay calm even in the worst situation. The pitcher can't imagine him not being calm and collected - even when Yuuki loses in shogi (again and again) against Sawamura, the only thing at his face is determination. Of course he sometimes laughs and smiles (almost never at Sawamura) but most of the time he's the most serious of them all, a realist who never gives up.

Maybe this is why seeing him cry after the match against Inashiro was the most painful thing that day.

* * *

They haven't played in days.

As much as Sawamura is angry with himself for that match, as much as he's afraid of other students blaming him, he longs to play against his cap– ex-captain. The boy swallows, keeping his head low as he turns a page in the book he tries to read. Right, Yuuki is no longer his captain. He still forgets about it.

With a sigh, he closes the book, hiding his face in a pillow. It's too quiet in his room; it's unnerving to say the least. Kuramochi went somewhere, Masuko-senpai is still at his parents' house and there is no-one he'd like to talk to. Maybe Chris-senpai, but he isn't at the dorms either. Gods, Sawamura needs to do something before he goes crazy; before that gaping hole inside him will swallow him whole. This silence is awful, unlike the one when he plays against Yuuki. That silence is comfortable, and it makes him relax. But now? Now he wants to run away from himself, turn off his own mind and stop thinking. He just–

"Sawamura?" Someone knocks on the door. Sawamura sits up on the bed, wiping his face. He didn't realize he started crying. Again. "Can I come in?"

"Y-yes," he says, closing the book, his voice trembling a little.

Yuuki walks into the room, holding a shogi board under his arm. He doesn't mention how dark is in the room because of the closed curtains – it's hot outside; the pitcher should at least open the window - or Sawamura's red eyes, as quietly closes the door behind himself.

"I thought you might want to play."

Laughter bubbles up out of Sawamura's throat, surprising him. After everything… after that fateful, last match of theirs in the summer is this the first thing Yuuki tells him? A rational part of Sawamura knew Yuuki wouldn't blame him, wouldn't accuse him of anything and yet, not hearing any harsh words comes as surprise.

"Sure, senpai." Sawamura forces himself to smile hoping it looks natural. "I'll take pillows for us to sit on."

Yuuki nods, helping the pitcher to prepare a spot for them to play: he stands the table and they lay pillows on the floor. Yuuki doesn't speak but his silence is comforting and this is the first time in days Sawamura feels – knows – that he doesn't need to say anything either; that Yuuki won't ask him about anything, he won't pressure Eijun but he also won't treat him like an easily breakable porcelain doll.

It's refreshing.

They play for over an hour and Sawamura wins all five of their matches.

"Maybe next time you'll win, senpai." The pitcher grins, inwardly giggling at the way Yuuki is looking at the board with the remaining pieces on it as if asking what he did wrong this time. "You're getting better, you –"

Yuuki raises his head, looking at Sawamura and words get stuck in Sawamura's throat. His ex-captain is _smiling_ at him in that rare way he only smiles at other third years. The first year doesn't remember Yuuki ever smiling at him like that. He used to long to see that smile, to feel he did something good. Now, when he sees how Yuuki's eyes brighten when he's smiling, Sawamura's stomach clenches and he feels a warm flush creeping up his cheeks.

"You smiled just now, Sawamura-kun." Yuuki's words are quiet, making the hair on Sawamura's nape stand up. "That's good."

Sawamura is at a loss. Not only Yuuki is smiling at him, but he's watching him with his famous intensity yet there is a soft undertone in that look which makes Sawamura's breath catch in his throat. The silence is heavier now, the pitcher can feel it, yet he doesn't know what to do. Something is happening, that much even he can notice; something big, terrifying and amazing at the same time and still, Sawamura just doesn't know _what exactly it is_. His stomach is clenching again, chest feeling heavy and he should do... something, not just stare helplessly at Yuuki.

"Let's play again," murmurs Yuuki, his gaze is soft, comforting.

Sawamura nods, not knowing what to do while his upperclassman is preparing the board for the next game. He wants to say something, anything; he wants to talk about that weird feeling in his stomach, ask if Yuuki feels the same, how he wants to say he is sorry just to break this heavy silence, and still... he simply cannot make a single sound.

Their hands touch a couple of times during the game. Every time it makes Sawamura's heart skip a beat, and his breath quickens. Yet, he stays quiet. If something he has learnt during these weeks of playing with Yuuki is that saying very little – or anything at all – has more meaning than a whole speech.

And as long as Yuuki is going to keep looking at him, making that hole inside him stop aching, the pitcher doesn't need any words.

* * *

It's rare for Sawamura to practice anything else than pitching. He loves standing on the mound, he lives for the moments when his pitches reach the catcher's mitt. Yet today, when he came for an evening practice and didn't find anyone in the gym – no wonder, since it's winter and the central heating broke a few days ago – he decided to practice batting. He's knows his he's far from being good at it and this is why he wants to practice more, to become much, much better at batting; he wants to have more weapons than only bunting.

He takes another swing, trying to imagine the trajectory of a curveball, how he should hit it to make the ball fly to the left, behind a third baseman.

"That wouldn't even brush the ball."

Sawamura jumps. He didn't hear anyone entering the gym, yet he recognized the voice immediately. He could not hear it for months and still be able to say whom it belongs only after an one word.

"Senpai, you scared me!" He turns around to face Yuuki. "I almost got a heart attack!"

Yuuki winces a little at the volume of Sawamura's yell. The kid has a good set of lungs and no control over the volume of his voice.

"You take too long to swing. Let me –" He steps behind the pitcher, covering Sawamura's hands on the bat with his own. "I'll help you, okay?"

Sawamura nods, gulping. His body is doing that silly thing again: his head is feeling light, like he's drunk, his stomach is squeezing and his heart is racing in his chest. Damnit. Sawamura's read enough of romance manga to finally connect all the dots a few weeks ago and the outcome didn't even surprise him that much. In fact he thought he should have realized everything sooner; ever since that evening when Yuuki came to his room to play shogi with him, Eijun should have realized that his admiration for Yuuki changed into something much stronger: a full-blown romantic-type of crush on Yuuki.

They haven't talked about that day. Yet, at some point they stopped playing shogi when they're together alone – and the two of them alone happens so often it's almost suspicious: they started to do different sorts of things together like talking about mangas or doing homework together, sitting comfortably next to each other. A few times Sawamura even fell asleep when they were watching something to wake up with his head on Yuuki's shoulder only to wake up with his head resting on Yuuki's shoulder. Though, the ex-captain never commented on it.

Which is why Sawamura doesn't know what to do. Yuuki hasn't given him a single hint he's interested in the pitcher that way and his taciturnity somehow opens that aching hole in Sawamura once again.

"Listen carefully now." Yuuki's voice is so close to Sawamura's ear, the boy shivers. The third-year presses his chest to the pitcher's back, using his knee to nudge Sawamura's legs spread a bit more apart. His presence is comforting and it takes every ounce of Sawamura's self-control not to say anything embarrassing. "Imagine a straight fastball coming at you... See how the pitcher is about to throw the ball... Can you see his movements?"

"Y-yes." Sawamura's voice is hoarse. Yuuki's voice is just too close, _his body is _too close, snuggled comfortably against Sawamura's back and the first year feels he won't be able to keep his calm for too long. Not when he can feel Yuuki's breath on his neck and the ex-captain's scent...

"Good. Now, it's not going to be a fast straight because the pitcher is tired. Do you see him, Sawamura? Imagine how he's releasing the ball, his hold on it is weak... The ball is moving and then you –"

Sawamura _sees_ the whole scenario perfectly. _He_ is that tired pitcher who still hasn't given up, trying to strike this batter out and he sees how the ball is going to fly – how he would pitch, following Miyuki's lead. It's easy to swing the bat at it, guided by Yuuki's hands so his swing is no longer clumsy and it does hits that imaginary ball.

"— hit it. Good job. That would fly behind the shortstop."

"Do you really think so, senpai?" This situation is ridiculous; Eijun 'managed" to hit an imaginary ball and he is just too happy about it – isn't it too silly? Sawamura turns his head to look at the third year and only then does he realize that Yuuki is still holding him, one corner of his lips raised almost challengingly, not moving back. "Oh."

Well, this is an invitation, isn't it?

As if this is the most natural thing in the universe, Sawamura hooks his left arm around Yuuki's neck and stands on his toes to kiss the older boy. The angle is awkward, his neck starts to hurt but it feels so good especially when Yuuki returns the kiss, wrapping his arm around the pitcher's waist and pulling his closer. The bat falls on the floor but they really care about it, being too absorbed in the sweet, delicate flow of the kiss, of how their lips feel against each other. Yuuki's lips part and he nips gently on Sawamura's bottom lip, making the boy moan quietly in surprise. He breaks the kiss, breathing hard as if he just finished pitching for all nine innings.

"... I waited for you to do this," murmurs Yuuki, turning Eijun a bit so they were facing each other. He raises his hand to cup the pitcher's cheek, stroking it with his thumb.

Sawamura snorts.

"You could have said something, senpai. I-I wasn't sure if I could do this or not!" The pitcher almost stomps like a small kid. Would it hurt Yuuki to give him a hint? How was Sawamura supposed to know the third year liked him? It's not like they do couple stuff like eating together or...

Sawamura's eyes widen when he realizes that actually, they do some couple stuff: Yuuki eats dinners with him in the cafeteria whenever he can, they watch films together, hell, they even went to Tokyo together when Sawamura wanted to buy Christmas presents for everyone. And what about those times when Yuuki helped him with his pitches by standing in the batter's box after his classes instead of studying for his college entrance exams? Or how he didn't scold the first year for drooling in his sleep on Yuuki's shoulder?

So okay, there have been hints – some of them were pretty obvious and easy to catch once you learn what you should pay attention to – but still, it wouldn't hurt to say something, right?

"It's Tetsuya, Sawamura. If you want to, that is."

The pitcher's eyes widen, a sudden wave of warmth spreading through him. Eijun knows he can be dense – although he can be quite perceptive – but he doesn't miss the significance of Yuu– Tetsuya's words. For such private person as Tetsuya, to suggest something like that before they even went out for a date speaks volumes about how much Sawamura means to him.

Eijun wants to look into Tetsuya's eyes, but this is easier said than done. His cheeks are burning, he can feel it, and this does not help him either. He has never been in a situation like this before, yet he knows exactly what to do - what he has wanted to do for a long time.

"Eijun," he mumbles quietly before he musters up his courage and looks straight into Tetsuya's eyes. "It's Eijun."

The third year smiles again, making Sawamura melt, and this time it's him who initiates the kiss. Sawamura lets himself be pulled into it, feeling more amazing than when he strikes out the strongest batters with his the best pitch.

He is finally feeling whole.

_Fin_.

**A/N:** I lost some of my original ideas and I'm not exactly happy with how this fic turned out to be. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed it.


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